


Well Fuck I Guess I Wrote Another FRP Fix It

by Cecil_G_P



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, alternate frp ending, another fix it i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 10:45:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13568958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecil_G_P/pseuds/Cecil_G_P
Summary: Juno and Peter need a little more time to heal than in canon. A little time to think prevents some... miscommunication.





	Well Fuck I Guess I Wrote Another FRP Fix It

**Author's Note:**

> Well. I hope everything spelled correctly. I really should put more effort into that component of writing.

They collapse in a cheap plastic chair in a hospital waiting room. Juno is undeniably worse off. His right eye a mess of blood and flesh. Staggering from the blood loss, the exhaustion, and the malnourishment combined. Not to mention the various other cuts and bruises from both the torture and from the fight with miasma.

Not that Peter’s feeling too hot either. Where Juno’s mind and his eye had been stretched to the limit, Peter had been tortured through more… traditional means. He could still feel the phantom of diodes attached to his neck, ready to send electricity through his veins at so much of a hesitation. However, his injuries were not the kind to lead to blood loss. And while he had also been starved and exhausted he had had a few free days to recuperate - had he not spent every waking moment on planning a rescue that is. While he is still conscious and able to stand, his wellness stops there. But he is still far better off than Juno.

He glares at the nurses and resolves that if one does not come to help Juno soon, he will  _ make  _ them. Juno, who is slumped into him, eyes blinking shut, something between a whine and a groan comes through clenched teeth. Peter tightens his grip around his waist and drops a kiss into his hair. He leaves him face there, pressed into Juno’s hair, and hopes it isn’t hurting him.

A couple of nurses bring a wheelchair over and try to help Juno into it. He starts at the touch of strangers, his remaining eye is wide with panic. Quickly Peter gets back into his line of sight and takes one of Juno’s hands into both of his.

“It’s alright, Juno darling, I’m here, everything is ok.” 

Juno nods and sucks in a breath. “Yeah.”

The nurses let him follow, on account of the panic Juno is thrown into when he leaves his sight. But after a preliminary examination, he’s brought into surgery, where Peter cannot follow. After demanding that he be updated on Juno’s condition at all times he turns to go back to the waiting room.

“Where are you going?” The doctor demands.

“The waiting room?”

“Like hell you are,” she shakes her head, “sit on the table if you can, it’s your turn.”

“But I’m fine?”

She scoffs. “I’ll believe that after a routine examination.”

Peter’s too exhausted to argue, so he sits on the table and cooperates.

“Well, you won’t have to go into surgery,” she dips her fingers into a jar of burn cream and spreads it across the burns on his neck and back, the pads of her fingers are soft and light. “But I’m going to have you hospitalized for a few days minimum. In addition to regular applications of this,” she holds up the jar, “you’re going to be given an IV to help you recover from the dehydration and malnourishment. I’ll call a nurse to help you to a room.” She stares at him with a furrow in her brow. “Get some rest.”

“An IV is hardly necessar-” 

“I said,  _ get some rest.”  _ She sighs. “I promise we’ll update you on your husband’s status Mr. Rose. And he’ll be moved into the same room as you as soon as he’s out of surgery. But you’re no good to him unless you let yourself recover too.”

“Yes. Of course.” As unpleasant as the idea of being hooked up to more wires is, he can’t deny his exhaustion. So hlets himself to be led into another room, and maybe even falls asleep, in his wait for Juno.

_ “Thief. Turn over another card.” He can hear Juno in the next room, groaning in pain, he can’t take another card. Peter knows it. He knows it just as well as he knows the punishment for giving Juno some rest. “Thief.” He stares at the deck, hands trembling, he can still hear Juno’s pained noises. He can hear the machine starting up, can feel the tingle in his fingertips in anticipation of the pain. He can…” _

Conscious thought washes over him in a cold wave. He doesn’t dare move, or give any indication of having woken up. The advantage of surprise is an instinct burned too deeply into his veins. He tries to regulate his breathing, his heart rate.  _ Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.  _ But as much as he repeats it, he can’t seem to get Juno’s pained groaning out of his head. And that’s when it hits him.

It’s not in his head. 

He sits up, throwing the thin hospital sheets off of him. In the bed next to him is Juno, in the throws of a nightmare.  

“Juno!” He tries to keep his voice soft but too much of the panic leaks through. So he takes a deep breath, nice and slow, and eases himself out of the bed and over to Juno, dragging the metal hanger with the IV bags behind him.

He sits on the edge of Juno’s bed and carefully cups his face with one hand, brushing his hair back from the other, just like he did in the martian tomb, when Juno had nightmares.

“Juno, hush darling, it’s ok, we’re ok, you’re safe, Juno, I’m here.”

Juno’s eyes -eye- flies open, he tries to push himself up but falls back onto the bed, winded and panting. Peter makes a small noise at the back of his throat and tries to catch him and slow his fall. However he’s still too weak and ends up being pulled with Juno into the bed.

“Peter.” His voice comes out rough and gravely, and he throws an arm over him, as if to protect him from some unseen threat.

Peter strokes that arm and continues to whisper to him. “Shhhh Juno, it’s ok, it’s just me. We’re at a hospital, and we’re safe. You’re safe now Juno.” Juno’s eyes rove over him, to the apparent exhaustion, to the dregs of panic from his own nightmare, to the fractal scars running over his skin, to the lines he was hooked up to. 

He tightens his arms around Peter and crushes him into a hug. Peter stifles a gasp and positions himself more naturally in the bed, hugging him back just as feverently. There they sit, cradling each other, until a nurse bursts in, to check the sudden spike in their vitals.

They stand at the door, examining the scene. Juno and Peter wrapped around each other like their lives depended on it. Juno still trembling from the nightmare. They move to check the equipment.

“Would either of you two like anything? Water? Painkillers?” When both of them shake their heads no, they give them a small smile and point to a button. “Well, if you ever change your mind just press this. And here.” They pull the blanket off Peter’s abandoned bed and spreads it over Peter, where he sits nearly on top of Juno.

Left alone again, they settle into a more comfortable position, neither willing to risk falling asleep alone again. 

Peter looks Juno over. His face is gaunt and exhaustion leaves bruises under his remaining eye. The other is completely obscured by bandage. He’s littered with cuts and bruises, most are small, but others are big enough to warrant their own bandaging. If he looks close enough he swears he can see some electrical burns on his neck too. Burns that must have been acquired in the days Peter wasn’t there. The days when the threat of Peter’s safety wasn’t around to motivate him into compliance.

Heart aching at the sight, Peter shifts so he’s sitting up a bit more and wraps an arm around Juno, tugging him onto his chest. Juno doesn’t fight it and tucks his face into Peter’s neck, splaying one hand over Peter’s heart, where he can feel it beat. Peter wraps both arms protectively around Juno and presses his cheek into his hair and breaths him in. 

They sit like that for a while. Just breathing. All is quiet and Peter can’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable. He showered before making it to bed and the lack of sweat and grime is heavenly. The sheets- while thin- are clean, and rub pleasantly against his skin. And while the room is cool he’s more than comfortable drinking in the heat of an alive and somewhat well Juno who is pressed as close against him as possible. They’re both safe and alive and Peter’s so relieved that he thinks he just might cry.

“Hey? You ok?” Juno whispers into his skin. Peter realises he’s been making a small noise in the back of his throat.

“I think I’m getting there, darling.” He pauses as Juno holds him a little tighter. “How’re you feeling? We could always get that kind nurse to bring you some pain medication.”

“I’m fine.”

Peter makes a displeased whine in the back of his throat.

_ “I’m as fine as I can be, given the situation, sheesh.” _

“Are you in pain?”

“Not enough to warrant more medicine. Just sore mostly. And tired.”

“That makes two of us.”

They settle into each other even more and drift off. The next few days are mostly spent sleeping. Mostly in the same bed. It can’t be hospital regulation but it doesn’t interfere with their treatment, and the staff all seem to sense how desperately they both need this contact. 

Rita finds them by day two and bursts into the room. She nearly breaks down at the sight of Juno, but instead settles for showing off the “get well soon” package she’d prepared for him. 

“And I would've made one for you too Mr. Glass! Or Rose! Or Whatever! Had I’d known you were here too! I suppose you two can share this one for now!”

Thankfully she had stopped by in one of the rare moments when they were in separate beds or she would have -as Juno claimed- thrown a party right there in the hospital room to celebrate their relationship.

The care package -really that thing was enormous- included a few clean changes of clothes, a plethora of snacks ‘to give them a break from the hospital food,’ manicure tools, romcoms, and a trench coat worn soft. She talked their ears off for nearly an hour about the fastest ways to recover, and then another 30 minutes on how she would have helped them on the case if only they had asked and why were they still so secretive about it, and then another 40 about the latest soap opera. Juno dozed off towards the end of that last one, and Peter felt his own focus slipping as well. When she noticed he had fallen asleep she spread the trench coat over Juno, explaining to Peter that it was something of a comfort item to him, and bid them farewell.

Peter is released from observation sooner than Juno. He borrows a loose fitting dress from the care package Rita brought and disappears briefly to get two cups of tea from a coffee shop nearby and some flowers. He brings his offerings to the still bedridden Juno, who is grumpy at Peter’s refusal to sneak him out.

They drink their tea and Peter digs the manicure kit out of Rita’s care package.

“Give me your hands Juno dear.” 

“Rita’s gonna be pissed you started the manicures without her.” He warns, but his tone is playful, and he offers up a hand. Peter takes it in his and smoothes the dry and scarred skin with lotion. Then he files the nails where he can -they’re broken and splintered in some places poor dear. 

“Have you given any thought to where you want to continue your recovery.…” He keeps his eyes trained on the base coat he’s applying. “Your apartment is certainly the closest, but if you’re interested, I know a wonderful spa in the Kuiper belt that specializes in physical therapy and recovery.” He brings Juno’s hand close to his lips and blows on the polish to dry it.

“You’re asking me if I want to go with you.”

Peter tries not to feel the weight of Juno’s stare. Instead he focuses on the small bottle of polish which he rolls in between his palms. “What you said in the tomb… I won’t hold you to it. But if you are still by chance interested in traversing the galaxy with me…” He twists open the bottle and begins to brush a thin layer of gold onto Juno’s nails. “The offer’s still open.”

They sit in silence as Peter paints one coat, then two. “I understand if you’d rather not.” He covers his hesitation by blowing onto Juno’s nails again. “If you don’t want to see me again. Then… I can leave Mars. And never come back. You would never have to see me again.”

There’s another pause. And Peter can feel the bile of rejection forcing its way through his throat. 

_ “What?” _ Juno’s voice comes out small, and shocked, and hurt, and confused. Peter finally chances looking at him again and starts, as he sees the tears welling up in Juno’s eyes.

“Oh! Juno! I’m so sorry!” He reaches a hand to brush the tears away and snatches it back after realising they haven’t even fallen. That Juno is fighting those tears. That his hands might not even be welcome to brush them back. 

“What do you mean ‘if I don’t want to see you again?’ Why wouldn’t I want to see you again?”

Peter’s heart swells in affection but then drops when he realises Juno hasn’t drawn the conclusion he probably should have by now. That he’s going to have to spell it out for him.

“Well. It was my fault that this happened to you. It’s perfectly reasonable if you never want-”

“What? _ Peter. _ ” He jolts at the use of his first name. “What are you talking about? This is all  _ my fault. _ You should be the one who doesn’t want to see me.”

His jaw drops. “Wha-  _ your fault? _ How could you possibly think that? I’m the one who took Miasma’s job, who found the egg for her, who got it off that train for her. I’m the one who dragged you into this mess, because I was being stupid and selfish and all I wanted was your attention. I’m the reason you were tortured, that you lost your eye, that you were driven to… to try to prevent the egg’s explosion on your own. I’ve done horrible things to you Juno! And I’ll make it up to you in any way you’ll let me!”

“That…” The tears are welling up again. “That’s the most bullshit rational I’ve ever heard! I’m the one who swallowed the martian pill! Train heist or not, Miasma would have taken me for that either way! And you dragged me into that heist? Hell, _ I _ called  _ you _ , remember? And as for the egg- If only I was half as smart as I thought I was, I would have realized the bomb wouldn’t affect us before we had wasted any time on it at all! I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent this Peter! I’m sorry you got hurt because of me!”

He stares at Juno in bewilderment. He’s crying now. Absently Peter touches his face and realizes he is too.

He leans forward and cups Juno’s face in his hands, wiping away tears with his thumbs.

“It’s amazing, how two people can have such wildly different viewpoints of the same event, hmm detective? Let’s call a truce. I won’t blame myself for any of it, if you don’t blame yourself either. Neither of us could have know what would happen.”

Juno places his own hands -fingertips flashing gold- on Peter’s arms. He nods once, short and sharp. “Okay. Truce.” 

They both take a quiet moment to slow their own tears. After they’ve both calmed down a bit Peter picks up the bottle of top coat and rolls it between his palms before brushing it onto Juno’s nails. “Maybe it’s a bit too early to consider going anywhere. After all we’ve still got a lot of healing to do.”


End file.
